“Do you forget that ears are straining at this moment to hear what you say to me?”
“Surely they do not need to strain. They must guess. What could I be expected to say to the most beautiful woman I have ever seen?”
“You might be expected to be a faithful husband and remember that I am the wife of your King.”
“That would be asking too much of me.”
“I do not think the King would be pleased if he knew that you speak such words to me.”
“It is not my wish to please the King.”
“Francois, you are very reckless.”
“You shall discover that I can be more so.”
“To what purpose?”
“When can I see you alone that I may explain to you?”
“I am listening now.”
“This needs more than words. If you would come to an apartment I know …”
“I … come to an apartment! I do not think I have heard aright.”
“Disguised of course. We should both be disguised. It can be done. It is always amusing to be incognito. Do you not agree?”
“I have had no experience of that.”
“There are so many delightful experiences waiting for you.”
“And you propose to be my tutor?”
“I should be the happiest man alive if I were that.”
She laughed and slackened her pace so that she was close to those attendants who had fallen back.
Francois was disappointed, but he was certain he had made some progress. He had met opposition only once, and that was with poor simple little Francoise. The only woman who had ever refused him! But she was a virtuous woman; there had been no fire in Francoise.
How different was this lovely, vital girl.
Passion was strong in her; and he was certain that she was in love.
In the Cathedral of St. Dennis, Francois, the Dauphin, took the hand of the Queen and led her to the altar. As she knelt on a cushion which had been put there for that purpose, from a quiet corner of the cathedral Louis watched her. He had not wanted the people to know that he was present, because this was her day and he had no wish to distract attention from her.
His eyes were a little misty as he watched her. Tears came easily in age as they had in extreme youth, and he was deeply moved by her beauty. She looked so young in her dazzling robes with that wonderful hair, which he loved to caress, falling about her shoulders. There could never have been a more beautiful Queen of France, and he would never cease to regret that she had come to him in the days of his infirmity.
Cardinal de Brie was anointing her, and she remained still as a statue while the sacred oil was poured on her head. Now the scepter was being placed in her right hand, the rod of justice in her left, the ring on her finger. De Brie held the crown matrimonial over her head; it seemed too massive for that feminine fragility and Louis trusted it would not cause a headache.
The ceremony of crowning her Queen of France was almost over, and she was moving toward the chair of state on the left side of the high altar. It was the duty of the Dauphin to lead her to it; and she in her splendor, he in his elegance, must surely make all consider how well matched they were.
Poor Francois! Poor Mary! Fate could so easily have given them to each other. If I had died a few months ago, mused Louis, there would still have been a need to make an English marriage. If my poor Claude had not married Francois, and he had been free …
But it was not so. Life did not work out as smoothly as that. And now this beautiful young girl was his wife, and poor misshapen Claude was united with Francois.
Louis shrugged his shoulders. When one was old one realized that all glories, all sorrows, passed away in time. In time, yes. For time was always the victor.
They were singing Mass and Francois had taken his stand behind the chair of state that he might hold the heavy crown over the Queen’s head to relieve her of its weight.
And afterward, to the sound of trumpets the party, accompanied by the leading noblemen and women of France, left the cathedral.
In the royal apartments Louis embraced his Queen.
“You are now truly Queen of France, my dear,” he said. “And it gave me great pleasure to witness your coronation.”
“It was an impressive ceremony, and I trust I did all that was expected of me.”
“You acted with perfect composure as you always do.”
She was momentarily moved because of his pride in her; and she was ashamed because of the many times she had wished him dead. She still did, but she was sorry that it had to be; and she had an impulse then to throw herself on to her knees before him and beg him to understand the motive behind her desires. She wanted to explain: It is not you personally, Louis, for you have shown me nothing but goodness; it is simply that, having been forced to marry when I love elsewhere, I cannot live without hope that I may one day be free.
He was shrewd, she knew; and often she wondered whether he understood more than he let her believe. Had he noticed the change in her since the arrival of the English party? Others had—Marguerite for instance. Marguerite was clever, yet like most people had her blind spot, and that was where her brother was concerned. She thought that every woman must be in love with him and ready to follow when he beckoned; and he had certainly beckoned
